


Baby, If I've Got You, I Don't Need a Parachute

by Lookafterlou1234



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Eggsy's accent is a BITCH to write, I'm painfully American help, M/M, also, it was cluttering up my docs and I felt the strangest need to post it, it's not even complete, this is so short I'm so sorry, we didn't even reach the fun part I apologize again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-10 14:52:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4396154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lookafterlou1234/pseuds/Lookafterlou1234
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You want me to <i>what?</i>" </p>
<p>"Seduce me? Yes." </p>
<p>(Or the one where Eggsy seduces a certain Harry Hart, who says it's for "practice", and it's unseasonably warm for England in June, isn't it?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the song "Parachute" by the ever brilliant Ingrid Michaelson.

"You want me to _what_?" Eggsy says incredulously, staring up at his mentor from his position on his couch. Harry Hart walks the length of his office, pausing to pick up his scotch from where it sits on the desk. He turns on his heels and considers Eggsy, taking a thoughtful sip of his drink.  
"I do believe you heard me the first time, Eggsy." Harry responds calmly and damn him, damn Harry Hart and his endless poise. Is he not flustered by this- this proposition? Just the mention of it has Eggsy getting hot under the collar of his suit. Well, that might be the weather either. It seems to be a million degrees in London this time of year, and Eggsy is positively sweltering. He's grown to like wearing suits, yes, but honestly, there's a line between _gentlemanly _and _fucking bonkers_ and this is definitely crossing it.  
"So, you want me to- to-" Eggsy sputters nervously, tugging at his tie and trying to reduce the pressure building against his Adam's apple. He can't say it, he can't, it's Harry fucking Hart he's talking to. It's not like he's talking to one of his mates from home, or even Roxy: fuck, he'd talk to his own mum about this ahead of _Harry_. __

___"Seduce me? Yes." Harry finishes for him, setting his scotch back down and tilting his head to look at his protégée. His warm brown eyes bore into Eggsy, making him squirm a bit._  
"But-" Eggsy protests, unsure of what exactly he's trying to say. However, Harry silences him with a cautionary look, and Eggsy closes his mouth compliantly.  
"Seduction is a useful tactic of Kingsmen." Harry continues, sitting down opposite Eggsy in a armchair and folding his hands. "Sex is a weapon like any other, and it must be utilized. When aroused, people are highly bendable."  
"Dunno if that's meant to be an innuendo or not, Harry." Eggsy says, trying for humor to hide the weakness of his voice. Harry laughs, his eyes crinkling at the sides, and Eggsy smiles, feeling more at ease. He sinks down against the couch cushion, hoping Harry won't reprimand him on his posture or for getting wrinkles in his suit or something. Thankfully, he doesn't.  
"Eggsy, what I'm trying to say is this: in this century, sometimes the easiest way to get information off someone is to take off their pants."  
"Wait, what-Harry, you're not serious." Eggsy says hurriedly, feeling himself whiten. No, no, no, no. That wouldn't be happening, he can't, _they_ can't, there was no way, no bloody way-  
"However, Kingsmen candidates are rarely required to go that far." Harry says, seemingly oblivious to Eggsy's distress. (But because he's Harry, and he's never oblivious to anything, Eggsy suspects he's just opting to ignore it.) "If you succeed in obtaining Lancelot's position and become a full-fledged Kingsmen, there is a possibility of further-further _intimacy_ with targets. But as for right now, your task is simple. I have a flash drive, with fictitious government files on it, concealed somewhere on my person. Your goal is to locate this device and remove it from my possession without me noticing. You may not use brute force, because it is a honeypot mission, but any alluring tactic is acceptable. " 

___Harry falls silent and takes another sip of his drink, as if this was something perfectly normal. Eggsy barely even remembers what the fuck is normal anymore: his entire life has been taken over by spies and violence and Harry Hart. Eggsy swallows thickly, leaning down and scratch JB's ears, who's lying at his feet. The dog grunts and noses into Eggsy's palm, licking his fingers enthusiastically. Something about the pug's blatant affection calms Eggsy, so he turns back to the older spy, taking a breath._  
"I can do this however I want, yeah?" he asks quickly. "And this isn't like an actual test, is it? You're not tricking me and if I fail, I'm kicked out?"  
"You can use whatever enticing means you find necessary." Harry says, his voice totally neutral. "And this is just practice, so there will be no penalty, should you fail. However, in a few weeks you will have a legitimate honeypot task to do, so this is an exercise to prepare you. Every mentor puts their candidate through the paces of this, regardless of gender or sexual orientation, so at least you’ll have someone to commiserate with later.”  
“Wait, so you’re saying that Roxy is seducing _Percivel_ right now?” Eggsy asks, feeling a wry smile stretch across his face as Harry nods, fighting his own smile. Harry knows it’s a funny thought, even if he’ll never admit it. He crosses his legs and leans back in his arm chair, posture still impeccable.  
‘Yes, as we speak.” he says, arching an eyebrow. “And I’m sure it’s going wonderfully, given how serious Roxanne is about obtaining the position. Do you intend on being as serious, Eggsy?” 

__Here, Harry leans forward again, pressing his fingertips together and studying the younger man in front of him. Eggsy just sits there, not fidgeting this time. Being under Harry’s steady gaze always makes him feel special. More important than he really is. It has since the first time he saw him, outside the police station, and it has every day since then. Eggsy looks right into Harry’s eyes, and he knows that Harry knows. Harry knows how badly Eggsy wants this, what he’d give to be the next Lancelot. He knows how badly Eggsy needs it, because his life had been utter shite before and that’s why Harry took the chance on him._ _

__Harry just knows._ _

___“Alright.” Harry says, ending the silent communication between them. He claps his hands and rubs them together, beckoning at Eggsy to begin. “Hop to it then.”_  
“ ‘Ang on a moment.” Eggsy says, nerves suddenly shooting through him. “Lemme- let me go out and then come back in. Get in character, like.”  
“Very well.” Harry responds, gesturing at the door. “You’ve got three minutes to organize your thoughts and plan of action, as it were, and then I expect you back in here.”  
“No problem, bruv.” Eggsy says cheekily, chuckling as Harry cringes at the word. And then he leaves the office before Harry can say for the millionth time, “Eggsy, how many times must I tell you? I am not your “bruv”, I will never be your “bruv”, that is not a term that gentlemen ordinarily use.” 

__

__Outside in the hallway, Eggsy blows out a breath and leans against the wall. He runs a hand through his hair, twisting the golden locks around his fingers and trying to calm himself. Right. He can do this. He’s Eggsy Unwin, of course he can do this: he’s gotten through a majority of his life so far by blindly believing that he can do whatever the world throws his way. But even that belief isn’t enough to make his knees stop knocking together._ _

__Eggsy is about to seduce Harry Hart. Gentleman Supreme. Arguably the best Kingsmen in the business. Harry Hart, whom Eggsy once saw take out a whole bar of grown men with nothing but an umbrella. A man who doesn’t get flustered by anything, ever._ _

__Eggsy is about to seduce Harry Hart. Eggsy’s hero. Eggsy’s best friend, really. Harry Hart, maybe the sexiest man alive. Who owns a red robe that Eggsy wanted off him as soon as he saw it. Harry Hart, the only person Eggsy has ever actively fantasized about. Someone that Eggsy wants to be dominated by, bent over his desk and-_ _

__Eggsy is about to seduce Harry Hart. A friend of his father’s.The kindest man he’s ever known. The only person who ever looked at Eggsy and saw true talent, true worth. Harry Hart, the only person who believed in Eggsy Unwin._ _

__Eggsy is about to seduce _Harry Hart_ , the man he’s in love with, and honestly? Jumping out of an airplane without a parachute for a second time would be easier. _ _

__***_ _

__Eggsy’s been with men before, obviously. He wouldn’t declare himself totally arse over elbow for a bloke if it was the first time he’d ever been attracted to a member of the same sex. He’s bisexual, he’s known that for ages. But growing up where he had, with Dean and his cronies around every corner, Eggsy hadn’t really proclaimed his sexual preferences for the entire world to hear; i.e, not a soul knows. Well, maybe the guys he’d hooked up with in allies of the South End know, but considering that they are one half of the secret, he figures he’s safe._ _

__Eggsy was perfectly fine, really, kissing girls by day and boys by night. It was all fast and rough: being smuggled into back rooms of clubs, blowjobs in dark corners, quick enough that nobody would know and detached enough that nobody got hurt. He’d never had a boyfriend or anything, and that was fine, he didn’t _want_ one. Girlfriends were enough bloody work, he didn’t wanna throw more testosterone into the mix._ _

__And then came Harry._ _

__Eggsy’s entire life changed completely. He went from being an aimless youth to being a spy-in-training, which is definitely a drastic switch. But more changed about Eggsy than his position in life. As soon as Eggsy met his mentor, he’d known that this man was going to special to him. And not in a _he’s so cool holy shit he just hit that tosser with a brandy glass holy shit holy shit holy shit who the fuck is he_ way. That had been part of it, sure, because that fight in the bar was still probably the fucking coolest moment of Eggsy’s life. But really, it's more like _oh my god he’s so beautiful and his eyes are like chocolate and his smile is making my stomach flip, his laugh physically hurts me and I don’t know when his voice became my favourite sound what the fuck is happening to me_ way. Eggsy could literally listen to Harry talk for hours, about anything. He'd even be chastised by him if it meant getting to hear him speak for a little while. _ _

__Whenever Harry enters a room, Eggsy's heart starts to beat too fast. Whenever Eggsy sees Harry fight, a deadly dance in which he's mastered every single step, he gets so fucking turned on that he has to excuse himself for a little while. Whenever Harry looks at Eggsy, Eggsy wants to melt into his shoes. His gaze is just so warm, and it makes Eggsy feel safe, safer than he has ever felt in his entire life. He never believed in love like this before, love shown in books and TV shows and movies. Cliche shit, like the romance of _My Fair Lady_. (It made Eggsy's insides feel all jumbled up whenever he realized that their initials were the same as the couple of his favourite movie: Eliza and Henry Higgins, Eggsy and Harry Hart.) _ _

__Fuck, Eggsy can't do this. He honestly can't. But he has to, because it's Harry's request, and Eggsy would run back into a burning building if Harry asked it of him. But how is he going to? He's got about two minutes until Harry wants him back in there, and he has no plan of attack, as it were. As much time that Eggsy spends observing his mentor, he's got no idea what could possibly attract the man enough to distract him so Eggsy could nick the flash drive.  
"Think, Unwin, think." Eggsy mumbles under his breath, tugging at his tie again. "We're both men, we must share a common turn-on....that's if Harry is even turned on by anything! And if it wasn't so bloody hot in here, I might be able to fucking think!" _ _

___Oh._ _ _

__There it is._ _

__Eggsy pumps his fists in the air with victory and rushes back into Harry's office with twenty seconds to spare. Harry is sitting in the same place where Eggsy left him, his legs crossed elegantly at the knee. Eggsy pauses in the doorway, feeling excitement, nerves, and more than a fair bit of terror rise up in his stomach. He takes a shallow breath, his throat tight, and then blows it out. He can't view this as seducing Harry: it has to be just any other person, just another mission. It's not like they're gonna do anything, Eggsy is literally just a distraction, so things won't get out of hand._ _

__Eggsy tries to ignore the part of him that really, _really_ wants them to. _ _

___The young recruit enters the room fully, shutting the door quietly behind him. Harry looks up from the book on his lap at the sound, giving Eggsy a brief nod. His glasses are sliding down on his nose, shielding the warmth of his eyes. Swallowing nervously, Eggsy steps forward, walking slowly across the room. The only sound is the quiet tread of his feet against the hardwood floor, and it seems deafeningly loud, ringing in his ears. He reaches the sofa, pausing and looking at Harry before he takes a seat._  
"May I sit here?" he asks, putting on the posh, affected accent that he's been developing over the past weeks at Kingsman. Sure, Eggsy's aware that some people love a bit of rough, but Harry Hart probably isn't one of them. And besides, he doesn't want to sound like a chav the whole time: it gotten him more than enough disrespect while he's been here, and if there's anything you need to be a gentleman, it's demanding respect.  
"Of course." Harry says with a graceful incline of his head. Eggsy sinks down onto the couch, keeping his spine rigidly straight. There's a fair bit of distance between the two men, because Eggsy doesn't wanna come off as too strong, but he'll definitely be lessening the space as time goes on. Eggsy clears his throat, fiddling with the collar of his suit. Harry glances up at the motion, his eyes flicking over Eggsy's form. Normally, this is where Eggsy would say something cheeky, like " _Like whatcha see?_ " or " _It looks even better under the suit, trust me_." 

___But that is not a tactic he's taking today. That is not part of the plan, and Eggsy is constantly endeavoring to learn how to follow a plan. So, Eggsy gives Harry a small smile, holding himself back from winking. Harry doesn't smile back, his face curiously expressionless, and Eggsy shifts his weight, reaching up to toy with the knot of his tie._  
"Do you mind if I remove my suit jacket, sir?" Eggsy asks, as polite as you please. "It is awfully warm in here, if you don't mind me saying."  
"Yes, you may." Harry says. "As it's unseasonably warm for June."  
"I agree wholeheartedly, sir." Eggsy replies smoothly, inwardly cringing over how this conversation sounds. They're literally like two old men discussing the weather, which is definitely not how a honeypot mission is meant to go. This isn't how Eggsy and Harry speak to one another, at all. But for right now, it's necessary. Eggsy shrugs out of his suit jacket, folding it carefully in half and laying it over the back of the couch. He loosens his tie and then takes it off all together, unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt and leaving the hollow of his neck exposed. 

__If there's anything Harry Hart can't stand, it's Eggsy being out of proper uniform. And Eggsy's just hoping that maybe, it'll be enough to turn him on a bit too._ _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's trying a second chapter to possibly the worst smut ever written?
> 
> (There's not even smut yet basically)

Harry watches as Eggsy unbuttons the cuffs of his shirt, rolling them up to his elbows. Eggsy can feel the man's eyes on him, carefully observing his every move. He preens slightly, happy to know that he's at least caught Harry's attention. Leaning back against the couch, Eggsy lets his shirt ride up a bit, flashing the skin of his toned abdomen. Eggsy runs a hand through his hair, letting the strands slip through his fingers lazily. He sends another smile Harry's way, feeling his dimples appear in the corners of his cheeks. Eggsy used to hate his dimples, until he saw that Harry had some too: tiny grooves in his cheeks that only ever appeared when he was truly happy. 

Harry gives him a brief nod and reaches over to the coffee table, picking up a book and resting it on his knee. He fiddles with his Kingsmen glasses, hopefully switching them off so Merlin isn't about to witness this. That'd be quite the footage to rewatch and review his performance, for fuck's sake. Eggsy gives himself a shake, bringing his mind back to the matter at hand. Enough worrying about watching himself make Harry Hart hot and bothered: now he actually has to do it. 

Leaning over, Eggsy narrows his eyes, trying to read the title of Harry's book. But it's written in fancy cursive script, all black loops and swirls that blend together in Eggsy's head. So, Eggsy shifts even closer, dipping his head to peer at the book. And he lets his thigh casually bump against Harry's as he does so. He tries to ignore the warmth of Harry's leg seeping into his own, the material of their suits rustling together.  
" _Pride and Prejudice_." Eggsy reads aloud, feeling disbelief slip past his neutral tone, because seriously? Harry, who probably has "Assassin" in his job description, is seriously reading that?  
"Yes." Harry responds calmly, turning a page with a long finger. Eggsy discreetly gulps at the movement. "Austen...invigorates me."  
"But-" Eggsy protests weakly. " Ain't she a bit...weak for you?"  
"I'm not quite sure what you mean, Eggsy." Harry responds, fixing the younger spy with piercing stare. God forbid Harry ever takes those glasses off in front of him: an unhindered view of his eyes would probably cause Eggsy legitimate paralysis. "Do explain."  
"Well, I was forced to read that book in secondary school." Eggsy says with a jerk of his chin towards the novel. "Mostly because my teacher is utterly obsessed with the actor that played Mr. Arsy in the 1995 miniseries. And it's just like...nothing much happens. There's no sword fights, like in Shakespeare, or work houses in Dickens. It's just dances and manners and people being- downright bitchy to each other."  
"Mr. Darcy." Harry says, his eyes now back on the page.  
"Huh?" Eggsy asks.  
"The character you're referring to is, in fact, Mr. Darcy. Not Arsy, though he is a right arse for half of the book. And I must beg to disagree with you. So much happens in Austen, you just have to learn how to look." 

Well, there's an opening if Eggsy ever saw one. He swallows to fight the burst of nerves in his gut. He has to do this, part of him even _wants_ to do this. He's gonna grow a fucking set. So, Eggsy leans forward, covering one of Harry's hands with his own, half holding onto the classical book. His mentor glances at the contact, and then looks at Eggsy, obvious confusion in his face. Eggsy just looks back at him, trying to keep his face neutral. He can't crack now. 

With a shaking hand, Eggsy reaches up, hooking his fingers around the edge of Harry's glasses. He pulls them off, expertly folding them with one swift move. Taking a shallow breath, he edges the front flap of Harry's suit aside, slipping the glasses into his front pocket. 

_God, he's so warm and he smells bloody amazing and we're literally inches away from each other and I could lean up and kiss him any second..._. 

Eggsy wills himself to focus, but it's kinda hard with Harry being in such close proximity. Their knees are bumping with every movement, the toes of their Oxfords (Not Brogues) pressed together. The book is still resting on Harry's lap, but his grip is definitely looser. Eggsy rests his free hand on Harry's chest, and he can feel the steady thumping of his heart through his shirt. Unfortunately, that's all he feels in Harry's breast pocket. 

_Flashdrive, where is the fucking flash drive_. 

"Show me how to look then, sir. Teach me." Eggsy whispers, making his voice lower, but leaving a hint of a challenge in it. He sees Harry's Adam's Apple bob up and down in his throat, the faintest trace of a blush creeping up his neck. He's getting flustered: Eggsy being in his personal space and asking to be taught is getting him flustered. Eggsy feels his own blush start as he realizes what that might mean. 

Does Harry Hart perhaps have a kink?

It seems like every blood cell in Eggsy's body shoots to his groin in that instant. Because, Christ on crutches, he can get into that. That's a role he could play extremely well, being told what to do by Harry (it's what he does all day anyway). Being told how to do things, being rewarded when they're done well, being totally compliant, willing, and listening to whatever Harry wants. 

_I'm going to die. That trial with water was nothing compared to this_. 

"Well," Harry says suddenly, clearing his throat. "In my opinion, Austen is, first and foremost, a satirical writer."  
"Mmhhh." Eggsy murmurs, relishing the fact that Harry hasn't pulled away yet. Feeling daring, he slips his hands further into Harry's suit jacket, pressing his palms against Harry's spine. It's ramrod straight (Eggsy's surprised he didn't feel a corset there), and tense as hell. He's got huge knots in his shoulders, and Eggsy works at them with his fingers gently, hoping Harry will eventually melt into the touch.  
"She manipulates the common tropes of her time, in a way that is both sly and masterfully intelligent." Harry continues, but his voice doesn't sound strong anymore. It's weaker, trembling slightly at the end of words. Eggsy feels electricity shoot through his body as he realizes that he did that. He made Harry's voice shake, in the best way possible.  
"Tell me more." Eggsy breathes, pressing his hands backward and swiftly tugging the jacket off Harry's frame. He tosses it ontop of the couch, right next to his own, and he knows he'll probably get reprimanded later for not folding it carefully. Harry'll probably make him iron out the creases with a spoon, but he can't find it in himself to care much. Because he's just leant in and rested his chin on Harry's collarbone. His face is essentially pressed into the crook of Harry's neck, and it'd be so easy to press his lips to Harry's pulse. He wants to leave lovebites up and down his mentor's neck, wants to make him squirm, wants everyone to know that he, Eggsy Unwin, was the one who gave him those bruises. 

And Eggsy's hands are still moving up and down Harry's body, trying to locate that fucking flashdrive that this whole ordeal is over. He knows that it would be best for both of them if he found it right now, if this ended before it went any further. But a less rational part of Eggsy (the part he generally listens to in life) is telling him to delay the discovery for as long as physically possible. There's only so many places Harry could've hidden the damn thing. 

"For example, in her novel _Northanger Abbey_ , the heroine is fascinated by Gothic fiction." Harry whispers, and he's still talking about Jane Austen? Eggsy is as hard as a diamond in an ice storm and they're still discussing eighteenth century literature? "Which mocks the general public's similar fascination at the time, because Catherine's obsession eventually mars relationship with her love interest."  
"I see." Eggsy mumbles against Harry's neck, breathing in the intoxicating smell of his cologne. Harry jolts slightly, his mouth falling open in surprise. "She sounds- juvenile."  
"Oh, she is. Very naive, possiby the most naive of Austen's protagonists."  
"Sounds like she could use a teacher." Eggsy says, his voice hushed as he looks up at Harry. As Eggsy expected, his eyes are even more enrapturing without the glasses, and now he's locked in place, unable to move. But it seems like Harry's turned to stone too: Eggsy doesn't even know if he's breathing.  
"Sounds like she could use somebody to help her, telling her what to do, like." Eggsy continues, feeling his own breathing pick up at the words. He's rather avid about dirty talk. And for fuck's sake, this isn't even dirty! This is tame for Eggsy!  
"Yes, yes, I suppose she could." Harry murmurs back, closing his eyes. But they flutter open again as Eggsy keeps moving his hands around, toying with the stiff collar of Harry's shirt. He slowly unbuttons the top button, keeping his eyes focused on Harry's face the entire time. Going lower, he unbuttons the second, pressing his fingertips to the ivory skin of Harry's throat. Eggsy locates his pulse, and feels that it's racing. 

_It's going even faster than mine, holy fuck_. 

Slowly, Eggsy turns Harry's collar upward, undoing the knot of his tie with nimble fingers. (He's gotten fucking good at this over the past couple weeks: the Eggsy from two months ago wouldn't have known how to undress a gentleman.) Eggsy tugs the tie away, inhaling sharply as the flashdrive tumbles down, landing literally in his lap. It'd been carefully wedged between Harry's tie and his collar, held in place by the two garments. There was no possible way Eggsy could've found it without going this far with Harry. 

Eggsy glances at the drive on his lap, feeling strange disappointment surge through him. He doesn't want this to be over, because it'd be all too easy to explain this away as a test for Eggsy. And right now, Eggsy truly doesn't think that's what it was. Why else would Harry have made it so particular, so well hidden? Why else would've his heart been pounding so hard? For a few blissful minutes, Eggsy had let himself wantonly believe that Harry somehow felt something for him. Or that he even...that he even felt the same way Eggsy did. And now it was over. 

"Got it." Eggsy says breathlessly, not moving his hands from Harry's torso. He can feel himself shaking, but he doesn't try to stop it. It's like the two of them are standing on the edge of a precipice, and they're either about to tumble over the side together, or Eggsy is gonna fall alone. And he doesn't know what scares him more. 

"Well done." Harry replies, not looking at him anymore, and Eggsy's heart sinks to his Oxfords. "You've found the main objective, as assigned. Please retrieve it and remove yourself properly from the situation." 

Well. 

That sounds pretty final, doesn't it?

He's hurtling to the ground, totally alone. 

Eggsy gives a clipped nod, swiping up the flashdrive from his knee. He clenches his hand into a tight fist around it, digging his trimmed nails into his palm. Usually, the slight pain would bring him back to himself, but right now, it doesn't. The sudden, violent ache in his chest can't be assuaged. He takes a deep breath before he stands up, trying to find the strength from somewhere deep inside. It's the unnamed strength that he used whenever Dean or his cronies hurt him, or when his mum drank too much, or whenever he got kicked out of something, for what felt like the millionth time. And right now, Eggsy needs that strength to leave this fucking office. 

To leave _Harry_. 

The spy trainee stands, brushing a hand down his now wrinkled shirt. He leans over the couch and grabs his jacket, easily slipping it on and doing up the front buttons. He knows he's doing this wrong, that in a real honey-pot mission, he'd have to come up with some believable excuse as to why he suddenly couldn't have a shag, His loved up target wouldn't just let him leave, like Harry is currently doing. But because he's Harry and he knows everything, he probably knows how fucked up Eggsy is right now, and is going easy on him. 

Eggsy almost hates him for it. Because if Harry knew how Eggsy felt, if he had the slightest inkling how painful this entire training session would be on the younger man, then he'd nearly be heartless to put him through it. But Harry Hart is not heartless, and Eggsy can't hate him, even if he wanted to. 

Eggsy gives his mentor another brief nod, not making eye contact. He'll be frozen all over again if he does. Turning on his heels, Eggsy strides over to the door that he entered from. He puts a hand on the doorknob and is preparing to wrench it open and run out, when he pauses. He shuts his eyes sadly, bowing his head down. He can feel Harry's inquisitive yet gentle gaze trained on his back, and it's too much. It's too fucking much, because he knows when Harry's looking at him without looked back, and Eggsy loves him so damn much, he thinks he'll burst with it. 

"Was that really just for practice?" Eggsy whispers brokenly, his voice sounding deafeningly loud in the silent room. "Was it really, Harry?" 

Eggsy stops breathing when Harry doesn't respond. He doesn't turn around from the door as he hears Harry stand up from his seat, keeping a tight grip on the door handle as quiet, sure footsteps come ever closer to him. His shoulders tense as Harry stops right behind him, and Eggsy tries to draw in air, get his lungs to do their fucking job, but he can't quite manage it.  
"Eggsy." Harry says, his tone impossibly gentle. "Eggsy, please look at me." 

He's never been able to refuse Harry anything, and Eggsy physically isn't able to start now. He slowly turns on his heels, keeping his eyes firmly fixated on the floor. His arm is twisted around at an awkward angle, still gripping the doorknob so he has a way of escape. He doesn't look up at Harry because he can't bear to: who knows what would come tumbling from his lips in the light of those brown eyes? 

Eggsy feels fidgety and uncomfortable in his skin, too big for his own fucking body. Honest to fuck, he should just revert back to girls. Bring on the estrogen, it would hurt less than this. He can easily pretend to be a happy heterosexual male and forget all about this fanciful foray in loving a man, so much it aches. Eggsy let's himself be deluded by this notion for two beautiful seconds, but then any thought of women he might've once had flies out the window when Harry puts a tender hand underneath his chin. 

Eggsy's breath catches in his throat as his mentor slowly raises his head. His fingers are cool and supple against Eggsy's hot skin, providing a welcome relief from the humid air. Eggsy swallows hoarsely, feeling his throat bob against Harry's hand, and heat floods him from head to toe because _Harry is touching him_. 

Harry's eyes are impossibly gentle as he looks at Eggsy. They hold none of their normal shields within them: walls that Harry puts up to hid his inner emotions. They're clear and soft, crinkling at the sides when Harry gives Eggsy a kind, albeit somewhat stiff, smile. Eggsy manages to return it, feeling pain and butterflies battle from dominance in his stomach.  
"You did remarkably well." Harry begins, his voice full of praise. And momentarily, Eggsy lets himself reveal in that fact alone. Harry is the epitome of hard to please, but once you please him, there's nearly no end to the commendation. "Especially given that I told you hardly anything about the assignment. I'm proud of you, Eggsy. You managed to put...whatever else you might've been feeling or thinking on hold and focus on the task at hand. And that is a necessary quality to Kingsmen, and your firm grasp on it signifies your growth to me." 

_Whatever else you might've been feeling or thinking_. 

Fucking bloody shit on a stick. 

Harry definitely knows, and this is his way of apologizing to Eggsy for putting him through it. 

"I'm fairly sure this task unnerved you." Harry continues, his voice neutral, and Eggsy shuts his eyes in horror, feeling himself redden. Damn right, it unnerved him. It'd taken so much nerve to do what he'd just done! He's exhausted from the adrenaline of it, hormones and feelings coursing through him, and all he really wants to do is curl up in his bunk with JB at his feet. But no, JB has flopped his lazy arse right on Harry's armchair, because Harry Hart is irresistable to even an untrainable pug! "It's certainly an odd request, having a much younger spy seduce a mentor....you're 25 years my junior, for Christ's sake..." 

Harry's voice trails off suddenly, and he drops his grip on Eggsy's chin, slowly lowering his hand back down to his side. He already feels the loss, missing Harry's soothing touch against his seemingly fevered skin. They just look at each other for a few moments, brown eyes locked with green, and Harry gives himself a shake, standing up even straighter than before.  
"I wasn't honest with you before, Eggsy." Harry says, his voice softer now. Gentler now. "Roxy did not seduce Percivel. No other Kingsmen recruit seduced their mentor. This task was by my design and my design only, and for that, I'm asking you to forgive me."  
"Forgive you for what?" Eggsy whispers back, feeling his voice tremble. His heart is pounding uncontrollably, seeming about to putter out for good. Part of Eggsy wonders if that's a good ending. Harry looks at him appraisingly, tilting his head to the side in observation, and again, Eggsy feels that importance that only Harry can bestow on his soul. 

"Forgive an old man his infatuations."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was wayyyyyy angstier than I wanted it to be XD Also, will I ever not write about Jane Austen?
> 
> Probably not XD

**Author's Note:**

> This is pitifully disappointing, I know XD I might post again, I might not, (I can't really write intimacy well so who knows why I even tried with preamble) Time will tell I suppose XD


End file.
